Five Inch Heels
by Blossie94
Summary: One of my English Creatives.


**Five Inch Heels**

The scream echoed throughout the woods, all the way to Texas. It's a miracle that the police didn't come in their shiny cars, like the shine of the new rifle I got yesterday. I stood there, looking at my dead wife on the floor.

Today had been an ordinary day. I came home from the gas station at ten past six, just like every other night this week, although I was minus one thing; a pay slip. Times had been hard since the last owner left from that unexplained absence two weeks ago, so Ben was promoted to the role of manager, and had been tough on all the employees since. This was the second week in a row that I had come home without any cash in hand, and Suzie and I were finding it hard to make ends meet.

Coming home tonight had been interesting. Usually I would have a yellow envelope, like the colour of a sunny day underneath my arm, but Suzie noticed straight away, that again this week, I wasn't getting paid.

She had tried for so long to find a job, but in the tiny town that we were in didn't hold much prospect to what my wife was capable of. She dropped out of school at the age of 16 and went into pottery. Our whole house was full of bits and pieces that she had made, yet none of them ever came in handy. This might have been why she was and still isn't able to find a job. She did hold one for three months though, but was fired because her creativity was too outlandish.

As I walked in and put my rucksack on the kitchen table, I walked over to Suzie and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Little did she know, there wouldn't be.

Suzie's heels stuck out from underneath the kitchen table. The black patent leather of the five inch heels, shon in the moonlight, reminding me of what I just did to my beautiful wife. Creeping out like a trail of small red marching ants, her blood spilled across the floor. Her last dying breath could be seen, her bright red shirt crept up the slightest bit, and then she went limp, like a daisy in the winter, completely and utterly dead. "WHY?" I screamed at the top of my lungs.  
Friday the thirteenth had never been a lucky day for me. And tonight was even worse. See, I am a werewolf, and during full moons, we get out of control.

I had to get out of the house. I started running, slowly changing from my human self into my wolf form. Starting with my hind legs, I split my work pants from the gas station that was my employer of four years. Next my belt, snapped into four bits, flying to the other ends of the house on top of that deserted little hill. My green flannel shirt ripped in half, but stayed on my torso sticking on by just the smallest tuft of fur. I shook out my hazel coat, and the shirt fell off. Running seemed like the best option at the time, so running I went. I hadn't had the wind in my hair for months. Suzie never liked me going out, and leaving her home alone, as it didn't end nicely last time.

Running seemed to have cured the stress and panic running throughout my head, but what will happen when I go home? There will be a human corpse on the floor, and I can't deal with all that luscious red blood on the floor.

"Alright" I thought to myself, "Do I want to keep my job and continue with my life, or dwell in the past?"  
The only thing I could think of what was best for me, yes, it was extraordinarily stupid, but I needed to run back home as fast as I could.

I reached my front door, petrified at what was going to happen next. So many thoughts were running through my head,  
"What do I do?"  
"Do I bury her?"  
"Burn her?"  
"Take her into town and make it look like a murder?"  
I decided to take the second option, and ran out into the woods, to dig a ditch with my claws, as sharp as razor blades.

It took me twenty minutes to finish the three metre hole in the ground, and then I ran back to get my deceased wife. Once again I reached the front door, and stood there; thinking back over the evening. All I could smell through the door was the roast cooking in the oven, mixed with the fresh scent of blood.

I stepped through the door, carefully, like the floor was made of the thinnest of glass, and proceeded to walk towards Suzie. I picked her up carefully, and slung her over my shoulder, and then sprinted back out of the house.

Carefully I laid her in the grave, and quickly filled in the hole with the cold earth back over the top. Sitting on top of her grave for a while, thinking of what to do next. I decided to go back to the house. Stress free now, the tears hadn't hit me yet.

Ten minutes later, I reached the house. The only thing I spotted when I walked in was, in the centre of the room, sitting in a pool of red blood; one of Suzie's Five Inch Heels.


End file.
